


First Impressions

by LadyLindariel (Morwen80)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2019-07-07 05:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwen80/pseuds/LadyLindariel
Summary: As Aragorn is walking through the forest of Imladris after discovering who he is, he comes upon the most beautiful maiden to walk Middle Earth. A short snippet of the first time Aragorn met Arwen. Written for February's teitho challenge





	First Impressions

It was nearing sunset in the woods of Imladris. The sky was painted in hues of pinks, reds, oranges and yellows, and the creatures of the night were beginning to emerge, ready to start their day. All was quiet except for a fair voice reverberating deep within the woods. A voice so fair that if one heard it without ever seeing the source, they would believe it belonged to an elf. However, the singer was no elf, but a mortal man – Aragorn son of Arathorn, Isildur's Heir.

For eighteen years since the death of his father Aragorn had lived in Rivendell, oblivious to his heritage. Known among the elves only as Estel – his true name and lineage had been kept hidden from him, to protect him from the Enemy which searched for any remnants of his line until the day when Elrond perceived he had come into his manhood and he was ready to know the truth.

At that moment Aragorn had been filled with a sense of peace, of completeness, and everything around him seemed more beautiful. And so, he was wandering through the forest, his heart filled with joy, contemplating all the new doors which were now unlocked.

As he sang, stepping lightly through the trees before him was Lúthien Tinúviel, the most beautiful being to ever walk Middle-Earth. He could only stare in wonder and thought he must have strayed into a dream, or received the gift of the greatest elf-minstrels – to make the subject of their song into reality. For he had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien and now? Now she was here before him.

Unconsciously, despite his wonder, Aragorn continued to sing, albeit in a softer tone and soon the elf-maiden drew close enough to hear and stopped mere feet from him. It was then he stopped singing for he had found he could no longer remember the words.

"Are you lost?" the maiden asked with a slightly concerned look on her face. It was quite easy to lose one's way in these woods. She had walked them many times and found they had a way of changing with every visit.

Aragorn found himself unable to answer, as one ensnared in a trance. The elf-maiden just stood, unsure of what to do while he gawked at her with his mouth hanging half open, for it seemed he had lost the ability to speak. As the silence stretched on she slowly began to back away, afraid he might be a bandit or a madman, despite his elegant clothing and lack of grime.

It was then Aragorn reached out his hand and softly cried, "Tinúviel, Tinúviel, please do not leave."

At those words, she stopped and looked at him with wonder. "Why do you call me that?" A small smile played upon her lips.

Afraid she might run or just vanish for he still had no idea if he was dreaming or not, Aragorn slowly approached her, as one would a deer, never taking his eyes off her. Sensing his worries, she began to laugh, her voice like music dancing on a soft breeze. "Worry not, for I am not an illusion or a dream. I will not vanish."

Aragorn had never seen anyone so beautiful before. He could only marvel at her perfection, which only intensified as he drew closer until he was only inches away. If this was indeed Lúthien, who was standing before him the paintings and drawings did not do her justice at all.

"Who are you and why do you call me that name?" she questioned again, not taking her eyes off this handsome stranger.

He slowly stooped down and picked a small flower from a nearby bush, handing it to her. "Because I thought you were indeed Lúthien Tinúviel whom I was singing about. Are you not her? You look so alike." Aragorn was in awe for he could not believe this beautiful maiden standing here before him was not Lúthien. But at the same time, he was relieved for she seemed less intimidating, less untouchable.

Upon hearing this, she smiled softly, her gray eyes lighting up with mirth. "No, I am not her although I am told I am her likeness – she is my ancestor. I am Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Lord Elrond. Might I ask you who you are?"

Aragorn froze in his place upon hearing who she was. He found he was unable to speak again for the second time this night. He eventually managed to stutter out his name, staring at Arwen in shock. This is Lord Elrond's daughter?Even as the thought flitted across his mind, it gave him great sorrow, for she was elven and he was mortal. And at that moment he realized he was completely ensnared, and he would only ever have eyes for her. No woman or elf could ever match the beauty he had found in these woods.

Oh, this is not going to be easy, he thought hopelessly.


End file.
